In Times Of Sorrow
by Bumberbatch
Summary: "Castiel observed the man change from the rowdy, loud-mouthed energetic young man to the elderly man that never spoke or moved. The man sat next to him now hardly deserved the title Dean Winchester."


_**Woo first one shot done and I hope you like it! It took me about two nights to write because of this flash of inspiration and a little motivation and this came out. Excuse mistakes, I proofread this as many times as I was willing to read my own work. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated and yes, I won't keep you anymore, enjoy!**_

"I have to go Dean."

"But-"

"I have duties to uphold, I have heaven to protect."

"You don't have to go."

"I do, Dean."

"What about me? Sammy?"

"What about you?"

"For God's sake Cas-"

"Don't blaspheme."

"I can't just watch you walk away."

"I'm sorry Dean..."

That was the truth. Castiel didn't want to leave the Winchesters. He didn't want to leave Dean more than his better judgement allowed him to admit but heaven had chastised him, threatened him with not only his life but those of the Winchesters themselves. Dean's eyes were filled with resentment, not of hate, but of fear and desperation. Castiel could barely bring himself to look into the green sea of lost hope and hurt. The eyes that looked beyond their time, belonging to a man that grew old and lost hope long ago.

"Please, Cas..." Dean didn't need to say the words for they lingered in the air around them. Castiel clenched his jaw and looked away for the first time. He couldn't. Dean meant too much to him but his life, and his brother's life was in danger and Castiel knew he would rather die first than let anything happen to the two humans that freed him. In the eyes of heaven, he belonged to them, but in his eyes; he belonged to himself. He was doing this for his own choice, his own free thought and he was going to save Dean and Sam. Cas was brought out of his thoughts when a the figure that once stood a metre away from him was now extremely close to his 'personal bubble'. Dean had taught him this concept but if he was quite honest, he didn't see the point. Whether you were inches apart or miles apart as long as you could talk in some form the distance didn't matter.

"Dean..." It wasn't a question like he wanted it to be. The breathy exaltation of his name surprised both of them, but neither of them flinched; just standing in a perfect distance to survey one another's features. Cas started to count Dean's freckles, something he had done many times before now. Dean was no doubt looking into Cas' eyes. He could feel him boring into them. Maybe he could read from them, see all the things Castiel had seen and all the things he had experienced. Without thinking, Cas leaned in closer still. Their breath mingled together, Dean tasted like mulled alcohol and leather; the smell of him that was unmistakable. Castiel reached up to the taller man's neck and wrapped his hands around it gingerly. Dean reciprocated by placing his hands on Castiel's waist. They didn't need to say anything; the moment that they had got themselves into was perfect. The goodbyes and the future they could never have were locked outside this moment. Castiel moved his hand up slowly do it wrapped into Dean's short hair. He pulled him into him, wanting this to last for as long as he could drag it out for.

Their lips were touching but they weren't kissing. Their eyes were heavy with desire and Dean's breath had become ragged. The agonising pace of it was painfully sweet. Dean was the first to close his eyes and press his lips against Castiel's. It was soft, romantic. Still leading the kiss, Dean opened his mouth slightly; gently pulling Cas' apart and pulling him into a rhythm. Castiel thought of the times that they had missed doing this, for the whole time they had known each other. He found it almost ironic that at such a time that they were doing it. It made sense; you don't know what you have until you lose it. Such a revelation made Castiel instinctively pull tighter at Dean, bringing him in close and gently running his tongue up against Dean's bottom lip. Dean granted him access and he started to manoeuvre his way through Dean's mouth; tasting every inch of it, remembering the texture and taste of it. He wanted this moment and he knew that Dean would let him have it; maybe he even wanted it as much as him. Dean added his tongue to Castiel's and a lazy battle took place, a slight pause from Castiel got him beaten but this wasn't necessarily an accident. He felt Dean's tongue invade his mouth and he accepted it, loving the way Dean's skilled movements felt within his own mouth. He felt Dean stiffen slightly and his actions pause as he pulled away; Castiel was almost disappointed but then remembered that humans _do _need oxygen. Dean only moved away slightly and rested his forehead against Castiel's. His breathing was shallow and quick as he tried to  
regain it. He chuckled a little and pressed his hands harder into Castiel's hips; almost protectively.

"Wow…" Dean's voice was like sandpaper that grazed Castiel's skin in a more pleasurable way than he thought a voice ever could.

"Indeed." Castiel was equally as breathless despite the fact he didn't feel so. But he supposed, human vessel; human attributes.  
They stood there until their legs ached. The sun started to go down by the time Castiel knew that he had to leave. By sundown they said, and then he would never be allowed to see the Winchesters again. Everything shattered around him as he remembered what this fate had in store for them both. Dean almost sensed this sudden change in mood and pulled away a little more, not moving his hands from Castiel's waist.

"What's wrong Cas?"

"I-I have to be in heaven by earth sundown." His words stuttered as Dean's softened face grew tight again. Cas hated it, almost resenting himself for ruining such a moment but if he hadn't said anything there was nothing stopping his senior coming down and smiting Dean before him. The thought sent shivers down his spine and he made more distance between them. Castiel brushed his hand down Dean's cheek before stepping back completely. Dean's hands lingered but he couldn't keep them where they wanted to be. Cas ached at the distance and the ruined atmosphere. Where the time had gone, he didn't know, but what he hated more than anything right then was the fact it hadn't gone slower. He stood in front of Dean and knew if he never said it then he never would.

"Dean I-" Suddenly, Castiel's atmosphere changed and he was stood in front of a single line of angels giving him unsympathetic looks. The words hung in the air around him unsaid. He never got to say them to Dean, Dean would never know and that in itself made Cas want the angels to kill him where he stood.

* * *

Castiel watched the leaves hit the ground as the slight breeze in the air made them slowly stutter to a stop. Like every year, he came back to this place; a small local park that was located near to Dean's home. Castiel had been with him throughout the process of giving up hunting and becoming a mechanic on the outskirts of Kansas. Domesticity wasn't something Castiel thought Dean was ever capable of. He met a girl, a nice one too, Castiel had thought at the time. At 44 life wasn't as obviously exciting as it was, Dean was aging and Cas knew that he hated it. Dean thought, well, knew that he was going to die a hunter's death. He was going out the same way he was brought into the world, kicking and screaming.

But this was evidently not the way it turned out, Cas had surveyed his life; the way he acted and the way he was. He hadn't told this girl what he used to do for a living; Castiel understood but also knew that keeping such a painful secret was having an enormous effect on Dean. He had been through it all with him; his retirement, his moving, his new job, his meeting of his wife, even the death of Sam.

Sam's death was too much for Dean to take, Castiel could see that. In the end, he could see that was part of the reason Dean had to move on from hunting. It hurt him that he could not console the man that was in so much pain. He almost ripped his grace out and joined Dean's suffering; it hurt too much not to do anything. But he couldn't. He knew what the angels would do and despite his selfish thoughts he wanted Dean to recover from this. He knew he would and that in a way was also one of the most excruciating things Cas could think of.

Castiel had visited Sam's heaven. It was so Sam-like he couldn't help but smile. Jess was there, looking after Sam and Dean; they would hunt and be back home in time for dinner. The mixture of a domestic and hunter's life was exactly the way Cas had pictured Sam's heaven. He had children; they would go and play and would never go on the hunts because Sam knew he never wanted to bring them up as he had been brought up. It was perfect for him and Castiel watched in fondness as Sam and his family were happy and laughing. This was what life should have been like for the Winchester brothers. It was saddening that such a life was impossible.

So he watched and he waited, making sure that Dean was OK; making life slightly easier for him, maybe making his lunch the day before he went to work, tidying his apartment so not to upset his mate, even passing a spanner that was just slightly out of reach. He knew Dean thought it was Castiel doing these things but he wasn't doing anything against the rules of heaven. Their job was to protect and look after humans; a little extra attention to one man wasn't going to make much difference to the world. The park was a place he'd been coming to every year at Halloween time; he hadn't much time to watch over Dean as much as he would like anymore; new generation, new profits and new monsters. Demons weren't a problem anymore since the closing of Hell's Gates but angels needed to make sure that these new specimens of monstrosities didn't get too out of control. Hunters were almost too rare; they weren't there to help anymore. Most of them had died or retired when the Demons vanished and knew that they would never bring their children to such a profession. So such was the angels' responsibility.

He saw Dean walking through the old iron gate and Castiel shifted on the bench. He knew that Dean couldn't see him, but it was almost as if he could, he stare was on him within the second of walking into the park. He watched Dean make his way towards him, placing himself next to Castiel with a sigh. Castiel didn't know whether Dean knew he was there, whether he wanted to think he was there but this happened every year, the same day, the same month, the same time. A year didn't make much difference to one's appearance but Dean seemed to grow and change in such a way Castiel had never experienced. The soft lines around his eyes were a little more prominent on his delicate features. His eyes had grown grey with the 'apple pie life' that he'd settled into. The excitement from his face had washed away and the pain that the young man's eyes had told was now a dull ache, a wish to not live but too content to end it.

Dean had always been living his life for other people and even now, Castiel couldn't tell him how special and important he was. His selflessness had caused him so much anguish in his life that he needed someone to look after him and show him the affection that he had shown to everyone else. Cas wanted to reach out but knew what would happen if he did and pulled his hand away that was mid-air to Dean's cheek. He placed his hands back onto his lap and looked straight ahead. The silence scraped across Cas' skin as it did every year. The words unsaid and the words he could never say just stuck in his throat like syrup, drowning him in his own thought. They sat there, whether Dean was aware of his presence or not, for a long time. The air grew a deathly cold before Dean even moved; he shifted on the bench like he was unwilling to move but knew he had to. Castiel gave him a sympathetic and approving look before even thinking that the other man couldn't see him and his heart dropped. He looked away and stood up in unison with Dean, his gaze lingered a little on him as he walked away, Castiel thought of heaven and his surroundings changed again as they did 10 years ago and as they have done every year since then.

As they will do every year from then.

* * *

Watching the leaves fall is still as interesting as it was. Castiel still enjoyed looking out into the garden, the mist of orange and red scattered on the ground, the end of this plant's old life and making way for its new one. It's a shame humans don't work in this way, Castiel always thinks. They just grow and grow, their climax always being the middle of their existence. The end of their life is always slow, pointless almost. He glances to his side where Dean is also looking out through the window. His hair grey and his skin leathered. He doesn't speak, he doesn't know if Dean knows he is there but he doesn't express anything he feels. He doesn't speak to anyone anymore, his face is always the example of emotionless; Castiel knows he's the only one who knows what he's feeling.

Dean didn't want this. He didn't ever want such a death, such an unexciting way to go. He didn't want to leave the world forgotten and washed up. The girl left him years ago, leaving Dean to grow by himself. He had no-one, not even Castiel could be there to tell him he was OK and that he was being looked after. Cas comes to him every day, the wars and the protection can wait as far as he's concerned. Being 84, he knows Dean's life is nearing its end. He wanted to be there to 'hold his hand'; figuratively, obviously.

Dean would just sit in his chair, not moving from the view outside the window. The nursing home that he had been sent to after a problem with his heart was essentially it for Dean. Castiel observed the man change from the rowdy, loud-mouthed energetic young man to the elderly man that never spoke or moved. The man sat next to him now hardly deserved the title Dean Winchester.

He would sit with him all day until Dean was called to his room. Castiel, of course, followed him the first few times; watching him sleep, looking out for him. But eventually, Castiel thought this a task of pointlessness. Nothing ever used to happen and Dean would never say anything or do anything, just as he didn't in the day.

Dean didn't even pray anymore.

He used to listen intently to Dean's prayers; at first they would be angry, telling Cas to get his 'fat angel ass' to him. Then they were pleading, with him begging Cas to see him. Those hurt more than anything, Cas was almost too weak willed to listen to them but he pushed himself to do so; wanting this form of one sided conversation just to keep him going. He went silent for a while before Dean would start commenting on his day. What he'd done and what he'd achieved. When he was still hunting, he would give Cas details; some of the stories even humorous. When Sam died, Dean's pleas got too much. Anger and sadness mixed with so much pain. He begged Castiel to bring back his little brother, and although he wanted to; he knew he could do no such thing. When nothing happened and Sam was given the hunter's funeral, Dean's prayers stopped completely. They only started up again like nothing happened when their meetings at the park became a regular thing. Now, nothing. The wave is as silent as Dean is himself. It's like he doesn't even think anymore.

* * *

It was all very sudden but also very expected. Dean hadn't shown up at the window one morning not too soon after his 85th birthday. Castiel was almost frantic trying to search for a human that was invisible to him; Dean's room was almost the last place he looked. When he entered, Dean was lain down in bed with a nurse sat next to him. The nurse looked at him softly and reassuring. She was very pretty, if Dean had been in any other state he may have 'hit on her' or so the term goes. She took his pulse while he sat unmoving, Cas watched her squeeze his hand and leave the room. He followed her and watched as she started talking to the care home worker outside Dean's room, that Cas hadn't noticed, had been waiting outside the whole time. He heard the words 'not long' and 'won't make it through the night'. It was enough for Cas and he thought of Dean's room and he was inside it again.

Dean didn't look towards Castiel but then again, why would he know he was there? Cas knew that death was near, he could feel the reaper's presence as time ticked on. He knew he would not have time left to do what he always had wanted if he didn't make it known now. The angels could do nothing, if Dean was on his deathbed already.

With all second thoughts pushed out his head, Castel removed the thing that prevented Dean from seeing him, suddenly appearing into the noiseless room. Dean looked sideward and stared at Castiel like he wasn't really there. Cas tilted his head, feeling almost vulnerable to his gaze.

"Dean..?" Castiel's voice sounded almost alien to himself, he could barely imagine what it was like for Dean. He swallowed and looked away from Cas, he thought he was dreaming. He knew that death was coming; this was the insanity that came with the knowledge. Castiel didn't want anything from Dean; he just wanted him to know that he was there. "It's OK Dean. I'm not going anywhere." He reached out and took Dean's aged hand. He wanted to roll out apologies but it all seemed so pointless in the grand scheme of things. So he settled on a poem.

"_May you see God's light on the path ahead  
When the road you walk is dark.  
May you always hear,  
Even in your hour of sorrow,  
The gentle singing of the lark.  
When times are hard may hardness  
never turn your heart to stone,  
May you always remember  
when the shadows fall—  
You do not walk alone."_

When he finished he could see Dean had closed his eyes. Castiel smiled gently and gripped his hand a little firmer. He had to tell him. What he had wanted to tell him for 50 years.

"Dean I-"

"I know." With two words Dean took Castiel's thought. With a slight rough tone and a ragged breath, Dean spoke his last two words the world would ever hear from him.

Castiel felt his eyes prick when Dean's hand fell pliant against his own. He blinked a little too hard and knew that the reaper had taken him. Cas knew that Dean must have stalled the reaper for as long as he could. He didn't get the words out but that was all he wanted to hear. Dean had waited for him before death, just to have the finality and some happiness in the world that had treated him so wrongly. The last part of grace that Dean could be given, Cas had unknowingly given him.

Castiel felt a grip from someone behind him and looked to see his senior giving him a harsh look. Castiel knew what was to happen, what had to happen. But now, he didn't even care.

Because that last thing he was living for was gone.


End file.
